


Malkavian Gone Wild

by Sailing the Malky Way (Fan_by_Proxy)



Series: Kinks of the Night [2020 prompt list] [1]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Creampie, Erectile Difficulty, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn Video, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28626612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Sailing%20the%20Malky%20Way
Summary: Mitnick has lucked into a fun, physical relationship with a most obliging Malkavian fledgling, who enjoys toys as much as he does and has 0 qualms about performing for his camera.
Relationships: Mitnick/Original Female Character(s), Mitnick/Original Malkavian Character(s)
Series: Kinks of the Night [2020 prompt list] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097768
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	Malkavian Gone Wild

Circe whimpered, thighs twitching as the insistent thrum of the wand bullied another orgasm out of her aching clit. “ _Please Nicky_ , please, please now?” she mewled, trying not to dig her nails deep into his arm; he’d wrapped it around her after the third climax, to hold her close and in place while they played for the camera. Now she was gripping it, trying not to twist the skin or claw him or cause any grief…but she _needed_ him so badly and he needed to know it!

“Couple more, sweetheart, couple more.” Mitnick said quietly, almost breathless. He kissed her temple, feeling a touch of heat against his lips. “I’m almost there, so be a good girl for me, ok?” he cooed, planting his feet again. Sitting on a soft bed, with a nearly-naked girl on his lap and her legs kicked over his was _such_ a gas! And as long as the camera’s battery didn’t die _again_ , he’d have a real good movie for later. “Doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he added as she arched against him again and mewled.

The voices were nearly in unison for a change, bliss drowning out the very few who pretended offense at being groped and teased by a Prior--whatever that meant. As the wand rumbled and Circe struggled in Mitnick’s grasp, she was sure her thrashing was giving his strength a thorough workout. A couple of fat tears rolled down her cheeks, gleaming faintly pink in the soft twinkling lights strung around the room. “ _Please_ , please, need you, need _you_!” she insisted, drooling a little for the effort to make sense in so few words.

“Just a little more baby, just a little more.” Mitnick kissed her temple again, feeling a flush of goosebumps at the faint hint of warmth there. Blood and lust made her just a little more human, for just a few moments, and he loved being the one who could get her that way. It made up for the fact that in spite of everything--the latex and the toy and her willingness to commit a lot of their time to film for him--he was only at about half-mast. “Need something inside bad, huh?” he asked when she gave a whimpering, feeble noise of protest.

She nodded eagerly; even if it was just his knuckles, it would be better than the aching need that got worse with every humming climax.

“Ok, ok…would you uh…would you do something special for me?” Mitnick turned the wand off and laid it on the nightstand. “I’m so close baby girl, would you uh…would you try the Lupin again?” he bit his lip, feeling his face tighten in embarrassment. Unlike Circe, he didn’t blush even when the lust was building. It was a Nos thing.

“Then you?” Circe asked breathlessly.

“Yeah. Yeah, as soon as I can, I promise.” he reassured as he moved to untangle their limbs. “I’m so close baby, you got me _so_ close to ready.”

Circe nodded, twisting around on the bed to get on her knees with her back to the camera. She made sure to give the lens a good long look under the skirt while Mitnick dug the girthy, knotted dildo out of the nightstand collection. She was confident even if she couldn’t make it to the knot, just watching her take in the length would get him to full attention and ready to go. He was a very visual guy, her Nossie.

Toy in hand, Mitnick came back to the bed. “Ready, sweetheart?” he grinned as she nodded and rose up so he could set the toy between her feet. “Oh yeah, _yeah_ …this is gonna be a good one.” he said, licking his lips. The toy was obscene, a red-to-purple gradient monstrosity as tall as a regular bottle of Coke before the fist-sized knot; they had worked up to taking the main length in, but the knot was still--all puns intended--a stretch. “Gonna get me there so fast doing this for me, baby girl.” he cooed, cupping her chin and lightly scratching her cheek with his claws. The barely-flushed, dopey-sweet smile she gave in response pushed him closer to being ready. It was just _nice_ being desired.

Circe took a deep breath, settling her feet on the suction cup to try and help hold the toy in place and got ready to try it. Mitnick had been tormenting her for the better part of an hour, so the first few inches wouldn’t be a problem in the slightest. She felt the tapered head slip in easy, the cool silicone dragging just a little. Circe shivered, took a breath to steady herself, then started to work her hips.

Mitnick was drooling with anticipation as he watched Circe’s ass bounce, barely-there-skirt flapping as she rode the toy. Best of all, he was feeling tight in the jeans; he could probably stop her now and give her a good fuck like she deserved, but he was so hopeful she’d manage the knot. “Almost there-- _fuck_ baby, fuck, keep going, you’re almost there!” he cheered.

She nodded, taking a deep breath, relishing the burn in her thighs and calves. It’d be a good hard sleep after the sun rose, just like Mitnick had promised; somewhere during a particularly head-scrambling orgasm, she’d heard--thought she heard, at least--the sound of a zipper. It was _finally_ almost time for the best part of this night! Circe huffed, raised her hips, and prepared to come down with as much weight as she could manage.

“ _Fuck_!” Mitnick grinned wide enough to split his cheeks as he watched her slam down on the toy and then go still. “You’re the best, you _did_ it.” He moved to the bedside and caught her chin, turning her face towards him so he could get a good look at her face. She was flushed, and her eyes were unsteady and unfocused, almost vibrating, but the right colors. “Got a surprise for you too.” He said before squeezing the plunger to set off the cum-tube. For a second Mitnick wished he’d picked up the camera to get her next face on film for later, but he only had so many hands, and at least he could enjoy the sudden shocked expression.

The splash of lube was cold and then hot and in spite of the legitimate impossibility, for a moment Circe thought it had gone straight through her and was bubbling out of her mouth; she was drooling from overwhelming desire. The toy--and by extension, Mitnick--was pushing _so_ much slickness up only for it to come sliding right back down around the toy; she was going to be _such_ a mess when they stopped fooling around. “Nick, Nicky, _help_.” Circe keened, making an uncoordinated half roll and managing to land on her back, reaching down to dislodge the toy.

“I got it, I got it sweetheart.” Mitnick murmured, brushing hair from her forehead and reaching down to get a hold of the suction cup. With a little wiggling, the toy came free in a gush of lube, and her faintly-flushed sex gaped. He’d hit the ‘hard enough to work’ state just before she managed the knot, but seeing her lying there in a puddle all loose-limbed and sprawled and open kicked his desire into overdrive. Mitnick practically dove on top of her, missing his first thrust for how soaking wet she was, before managing to sink in with a deep groan. Circe’s legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of her feet bouncing painfully against his butt and the backs of his thighs; her nails dug furrows down his back and he tasted blood when she kissed him desperately. His or hers, he wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter. “I’m close, I’m so close,” he rasped raggedly, “can you--tell me, tell me what I like to hear, please, please, please?” It was his turn to beg.

Circe kissed him again, leaving scratches on the back of his head for grabbing at him as he rutted her hard. “You’re the best Nicky, the best, it’s so good with you, you’re _so good_ , I want you so much!” she panted obediently; it was partly scripted: developed over nights of fooling around, but spoken with full sincerity in mostly her own voice. She _did_ want him, it _was_ good, and she was glad to feed his ego.

Mitnick shuddered, faintly hearing the bedsheets tear as he gripped the bed to keep from clawing her. “Close--close!” He could feel it coming, every muscle tensing and a cheek-straining snarl on his face; as his ears started to ring and his vision blurred, Mitnick bit down. Her neck was soft, slightly sweaty, perfumed…there was nothing in the world, before or after becoming a vampire, that tasted like his Circe!

Circe hissed as his teeth bore down, tightening her grip on his body as he shuddered through his own orgasm. His release was cold compared to the flush of lust and friction, and she was glad to feel it. There were nights where he just couldn’t, no matter how hard or weird they played; she was glad this wasn’t one of those nights.

For a second--an incredibly brief second--he felt almost mortal. Warm, weak, exhausted, and comfortable. That she could get him like that…it was wild. Slowly, Mitnick untangled himself from her, patting her hips and thighs to get her to let go, and slid to lie beside her. He watched his bite close slowly. “Sorry about that.”

Circe trailed her fingers over the new skin; it felt bruised but even that feeling would go away in another few seconds. “What’s done is done, not by me but by you this time, when in another reality it would be my apology to make.” she turned to give him a sleepy, dopey smile.

He smiled, running a claw down her cheek lightly. “It was really good, babe.” Mitnick said softly with a grin that was as dopey as her own (if he’d been able to see it). He sat up, scooting down to the end of the bed to reach for the camera and turn it off.

Circe sat up shakily; she’d need a snack before lying down for the day, but there was something more important to handle in that instant. She touched the back of Mitnick’s arm lightly. “Stay? Stay and bathe in perfumed waters, with nymphs and salves to soothe the savaged Nossie skin?” Then she sighed, because what she’d thought to ask had _as usual_ not been the thing that came out of her mouth.

Mitnick stiffened at the light touch, turning towards her to decline; not because her Malk scramble was coming back, but because…because the longer he stayed, the harder it got to walk away. He _liked_ her, liked her more than he could say; but she was nearly Caitiff, Lacroix’s whipping girl, and the nights were building to something that might force him to make a choice he didn’t even want to name. “I should be getting back, you know Gary doesn’t--” he faltered at the sad expression on her face.

She knew the rest of the excuse: Gary didn’t like it when his kin didn’t make it home after a night out, especially if they were hanging outside of the sewers and shadows. She knew Bertram sort of got a pass because of Jeanette (can’t complain when one of your own is in _very personally_ with the local baron) and she couldn’t offer Mitnick the same. And mostly she respected that, even appreciated how much more tightly knit the Nosferatu were compared to the handful of other vampires she’d met. But asking Mitnick to stay wasn’t about politics, it was just plain romance and desire. “Stay?” Circe repeated. If she kept the words short, she’d do a better job of making sense. That was more for her own nerves; he had either a knack for making sense of the word puzzles or was just bless with an overabundance of patience.

He should say no. Her ghoul wasn’t his biggest fan, and that made him anxious to hang around even with the door locked; Gary wasn’t a big fan of people hanging out too far from the Warrens during the day, and some four-five stories _above_ was pretty far. The luxury shower was nice but kind of a moot point once he started layering ointments on, even with the special therapeutic rose-and-hemp soap she used for him (which he did have to admit smelled really nice and made most of his skin feel pretty good for a little while). He _should_ go, while there was still time to go.

Circe bit her lip, taking a breath to try and ask again.

Mitnick leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Come on baby girl, better change the sheets before we get in the shower.” he said, taking her hand. Every reason to say ‘no’ couldn’t beat her beaming look of affection, or the happy little bubble of a giggle that always came with it. A lecture and some blue humour were a fair price to pay when someone as genuinely pretty as her looked at _him_ that way.

Warmed by the shower and a pint of pretty decent B-pos, the vampire couple curled up together on clean sheets. Circe passed Mitnick the tablet and gave him a nod; she wasn’t in the mood to talk. He kissed her forehead and with a few practiced swipes had Lacroix’s Netflix up and ready to go. The Ventrue had been binging Great British Bake-Off again. “Wanna mess up his continue?”

She grinned, and nodded. There was so little she could actually do to retaliate against Lacroix, who ate up the sycophantic pinup act like a man dying of hunger. If he didn’t treat her like a prop, she’d be moved to at least a little sympathy…but he did, and so she was happy to let Mitnick magic up a little technical passive-aggression.

Mitnick snorted and picked another season at random, then settled in with his arm around Circe. He knew she’d drop off within five minutes of the sunrise alarm going off--it was a weird, almost Pavlovian quirk of hers. But until then, they’d watch people panic over flour, and enjoy being in a little nest together, away from the politics of the night.


End file.
